My Mockingjay
by karan8tor
Summary: Madge's POV between when Katniss's reaping and when she gives her the mockingjay pin. One-Shot


AUTHOUR"s Note I've been a member for about a year now. I finally had this urge to write about Madge. Her character always intrigued me. There is also quite a bit of mystery in her story as well. Well This is a simple One Shot! give it a go!

Father was always stressed these days. What if he made a mistake in presenting his district appropriately? What if he did something wrong, offend the capitol in some odd way. He could become an Avox with just a snap of Snow's fingers. That's why he went through every procedure. He had every peace keeper's silver helmet shined to perfection. The flowers for the escort the most beautiful to be found in the entire district. His nights approaching the games were always spent without sleep. From my bedroom I could hear the continuous patter of his feet has he paced the hallway back and forth. Sometimes I was just worried for my dear father.

Father didn't sell his soul to the devil. Or in other words he didn't sell his soul to the Capitols evil ways. He still had sanity in him. During past games I would watch him wiggle his thumbs pack and forth with sweat rolling down his forehead. He hated it as much as I did, As much as the entire population of 12 did. He's an expert at hiding emotion. That trait had been passed down to me. Maybe that's why she and I were such good friends. We had a sub conscious connection I couldn't explain. We were friends even though not many words were shared between us. But there was enough.

Oh Dear. How could this happen? There are a lot of people here in twelve. Who knew she'd be picked. Her name was only in there once. Only once out of thousands. And her first year as well. Who would have guessed? I sure wouldn't. But the surprises for the day don't end there.

But that's not what surprised me the most. Twelve year olds have gotten picked before, just not as often. This time the 12 year old wouldn't have to be slaughtered. Panem wouldn't have to view the harsh death of Primrose Everdeen. Instead, perhaps we'd have to watch my dear Friend Katniss go in her place. Such bravery, such love and devotion demonstrated with an easy act of kindness. Twelve hadn't had a volunteer in ages. But I knew her. I knew her well. I knew she could hunt, I've had the squirrels she'd taken out with precise accuracy, and I've tasted the strawberries that she'd scavenged. Their sweetness still lingering from this morning's breakfast. I knew she stood a chance. She could do it, she could win and bring honor to our district. But she and I both know that that's not the honor that we truly desire.

A token. She can take in a token. What shall I give her? I know deep in my heart that I must give her a token. All of my faith lies in her, maybe my gift will help assist her?

I rummage through the drawers in my room, looking for something that might catch her interest. My fingers came across a bronze circle. A vivid memory comes to mind. Katniss's Father sang. Mockingjays sing as well. I quickly grasp the pin and bring it in front of me. My fingers trace the delicate etches of feathers on the wings of the remarkable bird. And suddenly I know deep in my heart that this is what I must give. This will make the difference, this will help her out. I hope it means just as much to her as it means to me. I remember when I wore it on my first day of school. I remember I wore the day when me and Katniss first spoke, when she sat next to me at lunch after her father's death. I cradled the work of heart in my hands and gave it a solemn kiss. Sending every wish every ounce of good luck, that I could possibly have to muster and transferring it into this darling bird.

************************************************************************************* I wait in front of the doors that I used to wait to see my father in. So many precious childhood memories, him telling me stories and playing games all hidden behind large oak doors. But now they seem harsh and scary. No longer desirable due to the armed peace keepers that guard them with stern emotionless faces. Finally, it's my turn to enter. I give the peacekeeper a small nod. Nothing more. They don't deserve one of my smiles. I walk in. Her countenance show's she's surprised. I walk to her, mention my pleas she takes it graciously. I am forever thankful. I leave with a peck on her cheek and exit the room. Hoping, Praying that my dear friend Katniss will survive this all.


End file.
